Thursday, December 4, 2008

wait. really?

Years and years ago, this is not how I would've told you my life would turn out.

For the better part of my early childhood, I was pretty convinced I was going to become a doctor. Then, reality struck in the form of 4th grade science. I was lost. Things got worse when I walked into math class in 8th grade. I was not cut out to be a doctor.

Somewhere in there I planned on becoming a coach. Whenever someone would ask, what kind of coach? I would reply with, a good one. That dream faded away as well when Reggie informed me on an extremely regular basis that coaches don't make much money. I vividly remember him saying to me one day, "you won't be able to afford groceries." That dream went into the garbage, pretty close to the file of business proposals and movie scripts I had written, too.

I then had the bright idea that I was going to write jingles for commercials. Never mind that I'm not a musician. I'm an excellent lyricist. Never mind that's not an actual position at any company.

Dreams die hard. I mean, when you're in 10th grade, did you ever imagine yourself living in an apartment with a broken freezer? Did you ever think you would spend a countless amount of minutes beating a solid sheet of ice frozen to the bottom of the freezer during your 20s? No. You imagined yourself brushing your hair for a countless amount of minutes every evening while you talk to your best friends on the phone every night, because you are friends forever. Yeah. Freaking. Right. Sitting in class in college, daydreaming about your future independence, did you have any clue that your job would basically consist of checking your email every 2.5 seconds? Doubtful.

I'm not bitter. I just wish someone would've told me. I honestly wish someone would've said, "taxes account for a good portion of your paycheck." OR even, "most of your vacation days will go to attending weddings."

Here's to following your dreams. Here's to going after what you want. Here's to being youthful.